


Santa Claus is Coming to Town (and possibly out on bail)

by ArgentSleeper



Series: Arthur Pendragon vs The World [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Protective Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 14:31:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2854280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentSleeper/pseuds/ArgentSleeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's his first Christmas since returning from the lake, and Arthur's sure the whole world has gone mad.  Especially Merlin.  But that's not going to stop him from doing whatever it takes to keep him safe, even if it means eating dreadful cookies and lukewarm milk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Santa Claus is Coming to Town (and possibly out on bail)

**Author's Note:**

> Based on lilybells' [artwork](http://lilybells.tumblr.com/post/70991303532), which was just so adorable I couldn't not fic it.
> 
> Merry Christmas/Happy Hanukkah/Lovely Thursday to everyone!

 

 

Arthur prodded the dial of the radio, growing more and more frustrated as it continued to produce nothing but static. This wouldn’t have happened if Merlin would let him near his precious laptop. But no, his ridiculous manservant – _former_ manservant –insisted that they were going to ease Arthur into this new world slowly, and slowly apparently meant working their way century by century through the evolution of technology.

Fed up, Arthur smashed his fist on the top of the radio with a growl. The white noise cut off and was replaced with jingling bells and bouncing piano.

“-find out who’s naughty or nice. Santa Claus is coming to town!”

Arthur pouted, wondering if it was worth it to find another station. Merlin had tried to explain this “Santa Claus” to him, but he had done a terrible job, really. It was a story filled with historical guesses and blatant fictions. There was a real man and a fake man and something about chimneys and frozen bears that drank carbonated beverages. But Merlin was enamoured with the concept, continually asking what Arthur wanted Santa to bring him (and then giving him a kiss and proclaiming he’d already gotten the best Christmas present of all).

“-sees you when you’re sleeping. He knows when you’re awake.” Arthur’s attention snapped back to the song, and his eyes widen at the lyrics. “He knows if you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake!”

Sees you when you’re sleeping? This strange man was watching people _sleep_? Arthur didn’t have to have lived in the modern world his whole life to know that was _not_ something normal people did.

“You better watch out; you better not cry. You better not pout; I’m telling you why. Santa Claus is coming to town!”

Oh no, this was unacceptable. Arthur was not about to allow some strange man to break into _his_ home and watch _his_ Merlin sleep. And then to tell him how to express his feelings! Arthur’s father had done that to him his entire life, and he had envied Merlin his freedom to cry over every little thing that made him sad. No mad, home-invading stalker was going to take that away from him.

Arthur let Merlin prattle away that night as he artfully arranged a plate of cookies and carrots and poured a glass of milk. Obviously Merlin had been fooled by this “Santa,” so swept away in his happiness at Arthur’s return. Arthur couldn’t bring himself to ruin his joy. Once he had captured the intruder, he would simply warn the man never to return. Merlin need never find out, even if Arthur had to eat the damn cookies and milk himself for the rest of their lives (and having tasted the rest of Merlin’s cooking, he knew that if that didn’t say love, nothing did).

Merlin fell asleep quickly, Arthur curled up along his back. Once his lover’s breathing had even out enough Arthur was convinced he wouldn’t jostle awake, he slipped out of bed. Quietly he reached under the bed and pulled out the sheath housing Excalibur. Merlin had easily relented to keeping the sword there once he understood it made Arthur feel better to have it close. Maybe there _weren’t_ mad assassins running amok in this world like there had been in Camelot, but you could never know. After all, there apparently were mad stalker men Merlin was perfectly willing to practically invite into his house once a year, no questions asked.

He started by building a fire in the fireplace, having to rely on his own wilderness savvy since Merlin didn’t bother to keep flint around (” _I have **magic** , Arthur. We don’t need that._”). He’d like to see this Santa man get through the barrier of flame. Then he plopped himself down cross-legged on the floor with the plate of cookies and carrots, Excalibur across his lap, and settled in to wait.

For all his best intentions, however, he must have fallen asleep. Next he knew he was opening his eyes to someone shouting from the other room.

“Arthur? _Arthur?_ ”

It was Merlin, and he sounded panicked. _Santa Claus!_ Oh gods, he should’ve been more alert! The crimson creep must have snuck past him while he dozed off like a green squire! Arthur sprinted over to the bedroom, bursting through the door with sword drawn.

Merlin yelped in surprise, then leapt out of bed to throw his arms around his middle, nearly impaling himself on Excalibur. “ _Arthur._ ”

“Where is he? He’s not going to get away with this, Merlin, I promise.”

Merlin drew back a bit to look at him, brow furrowed. “He who?”

“Santa Claus. I don’t know how he got past my fire, but it’s not going to happen again.” Arthur scanned the room, but it appeared to be empty. “He might have slipped through my fingers this time, but no more. At first light we are going to visit the blacksmith and improve the security on this place. No one gets to watch you sleep but me.”

“Santa… Arthur, what are you-” Merlin stared at him incredulously, and it appeared he might have been –no, he _definitely_ was laughing at him. Arthur scowled. Even now it seemed the idiot had no sense of self-preservation. “Arthur, were you waiting up for Santa?”

“Of course I was,” he huffed. “You think I’m just going to let some mad man break into our home? I know it’s been a long time since Camelot, _Mer_ lin, but not so much can have changed that that would become a _good_ thing.”

“ _Arthur_ ,” Merlin laughed. “I told you, Santa’s not actually real. He’s a children’s story.”

“But you said there was also a _real_ one who brought presents to poor people. I’ve seen your wardrobe, Merlin; you can’t tell me you’ve become rich over the centuries. Plus, I heard them talking about him on that radio thing. They said he knows when you’re awake and he’s watching you sleep and he forces you not to cry.”

Merlin kissed him then, chaste and sweet. He was smiling gently when he pulled away. “And you meant to protect me from that?”

“Obviously I didn’t do a very good job. Did he hurt you? You sounded upset.”

The smile vanished, and Merlin’s gaze lowered to the floor. He backed away towards the bed, sitting on the edge. His cheeks flushed red in the dim light. “It wasn’t… I woke up, and you weren’t here, and I thought…”

Arthur dropped to his knees in front of him, carefully casting aside Excalibur. He took Merlin’s shaking hands, squeezing them tightly. “I’m right here. I’m not going away again, I promise. I’m back for good.”

Merlin huffed a little wet laugh. “Maybe I need my own little charm to watch you all the time just like Santa, huh?”

Arthur smiled. “If you can figure out how to do it, fine. Just so long as I get one for myself, too. That way I know when you’re being stalked by crazy people with reindeer.”

“ _Arthur…_ ”

 

 


End file.
